Less Than Perfect, More Than Perfect
by Epitome of Bold
Summary: BEING REWRITTEN! Nothing can go right when you're like this, or so Casey thinks. Derek just has a different opinion, but can he save Casey from herself? EATING DISORDER. Dasey.
1. Food is a FourLetter Word

A/n: This is a Dasey fic, but it has an eating disorder, so if you don't like that, don't read. That was your warning. Italics are Casey's thoughts. **Rewritten and revised. Includes character changes and whatnot to fit in with the new season three people.**

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek.

**Chapter One**

"Omigod, Case, look at this outfit," Emily said leaning over to show Casey the outfit on a stick-skinny model in a magazine.

"That's awesome, but I bet they only make it in size zero," Casey said pointing out how skinny the model was.

"Nope, she's probably a size negative 2," Emily said jokingly. Casey nodded in agreement, but still looking at the model. _She's so skinny. They probably don't make in a size bigger than zero. What's wrong with being a size two? _

"Hey, do you want to go to the mall?" Emily asked jumping off Casey's bed and setting the magazine, pages open, on Casey's desk. Emily grabbed her purse and walked out, stopping in the doorway. "Are you coming, Case?"

Casey nodded, "Just give me a sec; I gotta get my purse." Emily walked down the hall and Casey heard her feet hit the stairs. Casey picked up the magazine Emily was reading and looked at the picture. _No one would ever look like that; she's probably been Photoshopped. _ _Stupid models. _ And with that, she threw the magazine in her wastebasket, grabbed her purse, and walked out the door.

--

"Awesome! That is amazing!" Emily said as Casey walked out of the dressing room to model the pair of jeans she liked. Distressed with paints splatters, they fit nice on her and did her justice.

"I know, right!" Casey said, just as happy as Emily. Emily and Casey were in side-by-side dressing rooms in one of their favorite stores in the mall. Casey and Emily would come out, both wearing something new and tell each other what they thought. "And that shirt looks totally fantastic on you!"

"Thanks," Emily said curtsying and blushing slightly. Turning around, Casey walked back into the changing room and checked it out for herself. _These jeans are great.. I don't even know why I thought that about the model. I look just fine. I mean I'm a perfect size two. She's just like an anorexic size zero. _

Casey unzipped the jeans, put them back on the hanger and tried on the next pair of jeans. She knocked on the wall between the two rooms. "Ready?" she asked her companion.

"Yep, you?" Emily said as she turned the knob on the door. Casey and Emily walked out to show their new articles of clothing. "That's really cool," Emily said as Casey spun around.

"You think? I'm not sure, I mean, I don't really like 'em all that much." Casey was doubtful of how well they really made her look. Emily called over the nearest store worker to tell Casey how well the jeans really looked.

"Well, I mean, those are for stick-girls, like the ones in magazines. I mean, you are certainly not fat, and I don't know why we stock those jeans, since no one really looks like the sticks. You're not fat, but I do think the other distressed jeans you had on were so much better," the store girl said as she went back to stock up the racks.

"See, I told you!" Casey said reasonably. "I don't like these jeans." Casey rushed back into the room and pulled the nice-fitting jeans off. She looked in the mirror. The words of the store girl played back in her mind. **Those are for stick-girls, like the ones in magazines.**

Casey looked over herself in the mirror. She pulled up her shirt and looked at her flat stomach. She pinched her belly. She turned sideways to look even more. "Great, I'm fat." Her stomach was fairly flat; she was skinny like the other girls at school. She was just like the cheerleaders. Casey was perfectly healthy.

When they were finished with trying on clothes, they went to the front of the store, purchased the clothes, and left with their bags. Walking down the street, Casey looked in all the stores with the mannequins in the windows. They all were shaped just like the models. _Nobody looks like that,_ she reasoned. _Yeah, except for the models in the magazines. _

The walked in Starbucks and stood, waiting, in the line of people.

"Did I tell you what happened with Klink and Amber in Spanish class today?" Emily asked Casey, starting the gossip talk about the popular crowd. Everyone was in their business, private or not. They were some of the resident celebrities at high school. Casey shook her head. "Okay, well, Amber caught him cheating with her best friend, Jessica, making out at the mall last night," Emily continued on to tell the whole story of the latest soap opera in the hell on earth called high school.

Casey drowned her out as she replayed what happened in school during her own day. Sam and her were talking in the cafeteria, Casey was trying to reel him again, and she had yet again failed. She was trying to play up her interest in hockey as Sam turned his head to watch a girl walk by. It was Kendra, the school's skinniest, and Derek's new target. He watched her shake her hips as she walked to dump her lunch in the garbage and return her tray with a final flip or her long, blonde hair.

Casey stood up, sick of it, and walked over to Emily's table.

"Case—are you okay?" Emily asked her as she waved her hand in her face. The guy at the counter was asking her for her order.

"Oh, right, ummm, yeah, the usual," she said noticing that the guy at the counter was Max, the school quarterback. They weren't good friends, but they knew each other well enough. They would nod at each other when they passed in the hall at school because he was in her grade. He even talked to her a few times in health class. She remembered that he was at THE party that Derek threw when Nora, George, and Marti left. She really liked him. Until Derek insisted that he wouldn't go for someone like her, a grub.

When their coffee came, they sat down at a table and talked about the latest gossip, boys, and clothes.

"Hey, Case, you know what?" Emily asked her as Casey looked at her curiously. "You could wear that light pink top I bought with those jeans you just got. It would look sweet!"

Casey thought of the shirt and mentally thought about what it would look like. "Hey, yeah, you're totally right. Could I borrow it for Friday?" After they finished their coffee, they headed back to their houses, Emily going next-door since her great-grandma was flying from further up north for Dimmie's birthday.

--

"And this is Nora and my dad," Derek said introducing his next victim—date—to his parents, since George had gotten to the door first, due to an argument with, guess who, Casey.

Marti ran down the steps in a bath towel. "Daddy, do you like bubbles?" Marti asked him with her 'I'm-an-angel-and-I'm-only-five' face on.

"Marti!" George said as he ran up the stairs with Nora at his heels.

"Oh, right, and this is my revolting sister, Casey," Derek said laughing as he dragged his latest through the door. Casey was walking through the living room and heading up the stairs when she heard the girl mutter something along the lines of, "No wonder you say she's revolting. She's not exactly pretty, now is she?"

Casey ran up the stairs tears flowing down her face. It was all too much now. First, Sam looking at Kendra. Then the lady at the store. Finally, Derek's bitchy date. If she ever wanted to punch the pale right outta people, those three people sure would be on the top: Kendra, the store lady, and Derek's chick.

She hopped on the scale in her room; reading it she saw the number that would haunt her for no reason; 113. At the last physical she had for school, the doctor said she was under-weight. She knew he lied; even if he didn't, she would always think that. From what the people whose word actually mattered, she was huge. She knew that Emily was 110, and she wished she could be blessed to look as good as her.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked at herself and thought about what Emily said about the top and the jeans. She grabbed the shirt and jeans and tried them on.

Standing in front of her mirror again, she was very disappointed by what she saw. She saw layers of fat everywhere, while anyone else would see a beautiful teenager in an average outfit.

**Those are for stick-girls, like the ones in magazines.**

Remembering that, Casey vowed that she would become one of those girls. From now on, food was a four-letter word.

A/n: I have changed this chapter to include Max as the guy she likes, to fit the third season better. And I don't know if I spelled Dimmie's name right. I also included Klink and Amber and Kendra and Jessica, some names from the cool stairs. I hope I spelled Klink right. Maybe it's a 'C' instead?


	2. Fights

A/n: **I've also edited this chapter to be compatible with the new direction I'm going with this story. ** I think this may be like a filler chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek.

**Chapter Two**

Casey lied down on her bed and turned over towards the clock. 7:24. She picked up the book on her nightstand. She opened it to the page she was at before Emily came. She looked at the words on the page. The words clogged her thoughts even more. _Am I fat? Why do I have to be this way? What did I do to deserve this? Did I do something wrong? _

She turned the page, reading, yet not taking in what she was reading at all. She came to the next paragraph. The first words took place at the main character's job, a diner. The talk about food made her think even more. _I can't eat. No more food. It is the enemy. You will despise it from now on. _It became a mantra. She would try, no, had, to avoid the food.

Casey looked over at her computer, desperately, as though it would stop her troubles. She looked at it with big eyes filled with scared worry. She wished it could suck her into cyberspace, to a place where she was perfect and everyone else wished they were like her. Or better, a place where food didn't exist.

Her worries increased as her mother shouted up to her.

"Casey! Come on down. We're having ice creams sundaes and watching a movie!"

Casey, unable to think of what to say, shouted down that she was tired. She yelled down again that she was going to get a shower and then go to bed. _ Occupy yourself. Excellent, it will prevent you from eating or thinking about food. _

She grabbed her towel from the linen closet near the bathroom, slipped in the bathroom, and locked the door. _Thank God, George finally got the doorknob fixed._ Casey turned the knob all the way to the left to let the hot water replace the cold water. She climbed in and let the hot water wash her worries down the drain.

She stood in the shower for a good ten minutes before she even started to shampoo her hair. When she got out of the shower, her skin was red and felt like it was on fire. She liked the feeling, though. It kept her mind from thinking about food. Anything that did this was good in her book.

_Don't think about it. Don't think about food. Don't do it. Forget it. You don't need it. Food is the enemy._ Casey spent the next two hours in her bed thinking about food. Dreaming about it, and then convincing herself that it was the enemy. She swore it off. She wasn't to eat. She was to make herself perfect. Perfect was the only option.

She heard a knock at her door, interrupting her thoughts of perfection. "Who is it?" she asked with a hint of annoyance noticeable in her tone.

"Me," said the voice she loathed with every cell of her being.

"Go away." He was the last person she wanted to talk to right know. She didn't hear him leave so she repeated herself. "I said, GO AWAY! Get out of here!"

"Open the door," he said as though he didn't hear any of her previous requests of privacy.

"Can't you ever think of anyone else? Why can't you just leave?"

"Nora sent me up here. She told me not to fight, and to talk to you reasonably. She thought you were upset with me so she sent me to fix things over," he said sounding serious.

"Too bad," she answered sourly, "you'll just have to leave without 'fixing things over.'"

"I can't because then she will blame me."

"Trust me, she's gonna blame you if you don't go away now!" Casey said raising her voice.

Derek walked down the stairs, trying to remember why he agreed to help in the first place.

--

Casey fell asleep half an hour after yelling at her stepbrother. She woke up after she heard cheers from Marti, Edwin, and Lizzie. She rolled over, a large migraine coming to her, and looked at the digital clock. The bright numbers flashed 12:54. "Shit," she muttered as she overslept. She was going to go with Emily to the movies at noon. She climbed out of her bed, pulled back the curtains, and logged on to her computer. She checked her e-mail and felt a wave of relief.

_Case,_

_Need to cancel. 'Rents out with grandma. Watching Dimmie._

_Em_

Casey stood up and heard the front door open and shut after sitting on her bed for a few minutes.

She figured they went to the water park since the elementary school got out of school yesterday. The high school had to go two extra days for final exams. The report cards were to be mailed to the house after a week. Being it was Saturday, Casey knew today was going to be hard. She didn't have plans, she didn't have any tests to study for since she knew everything forwards, backwards, and sideways, and she was bored out of her mind. She had nothing to do to keep herself from eating or thinking about food.

She heard her door knob click as the door swung open. Derek was leaning against the doorframe. She stood up and pushed the door shut. "Ever heard of knocking? Most people do it. You wouldn't know, would you, caveman?"

"Ever heard of being nice? Most people do it to make friends. You wouldn't know would you?"

"Can't you ever just leave? Do you know what it means to listen?" she retorted.

"No, I can't and yeah, I do."

"Leave me alone!"

"Fine, I'll try again." She heard him walk away and walk back up to her door.

His knuckles tapped on the thin wooden door. "Can I come in?"

"It doesn't matter what I say. You're going to anyway." Casey answered when he walked in and stood, staring in her eyes, like a challenge.

"You're right, I am." She responded by standing from her bed, walking up to him, only half a foot away, and glaring back at him.

"I came to tell you that Nora and Dad took the kids to the water park," he finally said, breaking the silence.

"Okay. Is that all?" He nodded in reply. He still stood there staring down at her, five inches shorter.

"Then leave."

He cooperated, not wanting to start anything, but instead, he stood outside her doorway, without shutting her door.

"Why weren't you downstairs last night?"

"Go away!"

"Casey?"

"Now!"

Derek walked away. He could only wonder why she was so crabby.

--

Casey walked downstairs after another shower. She needed to keep her mind off of food for awhile. She sat down on the couch, reached for the remote, and felt another force pull the remote out of her hands. _Derek._

"Give it back!"

"No."

"NO?"

"No."

Casey shrieked out of frustration and punched Derek in the arm, hard.

"What is your problem?"

"My problem?" Derek replied, infuriated.

"Yes, your problem," she stated.

"I don't have one. You're the one acting all crazy and psycho."

"'Crazy and psycho?'"

"Mmhmm."

"Oh, that's original."

"It's better than, 'give it back.'"

Casey just stood up and walked away, furious.

A/n: All the chapters are being edited and reposted because I just realized I didn't entirely like the way the story was headed.


	3. Signs Part I

A/n: Now, to make this chapter work, Casey has been not eating for a week. During that time, Derek and Casey have been fighting more and more._Now, this chapter, number four, and five, also, will be titled 'Signs.' It has three parts. _This chapter **will** be short. Not maybe, it will.

Disclaimer: I do not own Life With Derek.

**Chapter Three: Signs (Part One of Three)**

Casey sat in her room on her bed breathing in and out slowly. She stared at her pale, hurting face. For the past eleven days, she roughly worked through each day, narrowly avoiding food by making some response such as, "Exams, need to study. I'll grab something later." _Derek knew very well that she had everything memorized, but thought nothing of it because he knew she was the type to over-prepare._

The struggles made the entire thing worse, constantly reminding her of the pain erupting from the empty pit in her body. When she lied down, her stomach sunk in from the lack of food. The feeling hurt so she often slept on her side. The pain tore her apart, etching away at her body like a statue-making carving stone. It made her feel empty and weak, as though she wasn't up to par. _Derek saw her wince every so often when she was watching TV or on the computer._

With each day, she slept more and more. School was finally out, leaving no room for excuses with the word exams or study in them. She pretended to sick and not feeling well, when that really was the case. She needed the sleep as a secondary way of reenergizing. Without food as her fuel, she relied on slept to recharge her body's battery. Sleeping also doubled as a savior to keep her from food. _Derek had noticed that she was sleeping up to eighteen hours a day and still seemed to be tired all the time. But at least she didn't have time to fight with him anymore. At least, most of the time. They still had their moments._

Her face lost its glowing radiance. She looked pale, ghost-like even. Her skin became dry, fragile-looking. Without the nutrients food provided, her complexion faltered. Certain fats are needed to keep skin looking healthy. She wasn't the tan, healthy looking girl that she usually was during the summer. _Derek noticed her complexion one night playing Monopoly with the family. _

She became irritable and angry. The lack of food made her depressed and easily susceptible to anger. She flipped out on anyone who tried to be nice. She yelled at Nora one day for asking her about exams. She fought with every one of her siblings much more than usual. _Derek noticed her irritableness when she was at his throat yelling for not telling her that the family went out._

She constantly felt cold. Her skin was normally covered in goose bumps. Every time she went outside, she always had jeans and a hoodie on, like it wasn't the middle of June. She slept with a comforter and an extra blanket. Without body heat or energy, she was always cold. _Derek noticed her shivering some of the time when she was actually awake._

Derek noticed it all, but never though anything of it, at first.

A/n: Again, rewritten and edited. Still doing this to every chapter, then I'll post.


	4. Signs Part II

A/n: This chapter is part two of three titled SIGNS. Casey's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek.

Chapter Four: Signs (Part Two of Three)

The scale read ninety-five. God, _ninety-five_?! That's too much. _Way too much._

I walked slowly and tiredly to my mirror, running my hand through my hair and seeing a few that fell out. Sighing, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked terrible, like I was just run over by an eighteen wheeler. So much was wrong with the girl looking back at me. So much I needed to change, and perfect _is the only option._

Without thinking, I reached for the pack of gum sitting on my dresser. It was only five calories to prevent me from putting anything else in my mouth. Taking the last piece, I decided I would need to go for a run later today to pick up some more. I was like a smoker; the only way to keep from my habit was to chew some gum.

I changed out of my pajamas which begun to hung very low on my hips. I pulled on a pair of shorts that also were low slung, changed my shirt, and put on a pair or sneakers. Walking out of my room, which I hardly do, I took the stairs two at a time, reached for my wallet in my purse, and yelled that I was going out.

"How long?" my nosy mother asked.

"Um, I don't know. A while, I might not be back for dinner," I lied smoothly, even though dinner wasn't probably until seven. Rolling out of bed around one or two became my specialty. I felt so weak lately, but I knew I had to persevere. MacDonalds aren't quitters. I needed to sleep so much though. Gum runs were really the only time I left the house, literal runs.

I jogged out of my driveway and down two blocks to the gas station. The man at the counter smiled politely when I put three packs of gum on the counter. After pocketing the gum and paying the clerk with a weak smile and 'thank you,' I proceeded to work off the five calories a piece.

I ran two miles every other day or so, making sure to stop sweating before entering the house. I used up much of my energy running and living day to day. I hardly saw my family, not that I would want to, except Lizzie. But even so, Lizzie wasn't a little girl anymore; she didn't need me that much, nowadays.

I sang to myself as I jogged, singing the first songs that came to my mind. I started singing in my mind so I could take my mind off the stitch and pains from all over. Nothing really happened as I made my usual pass through the park, nodding at the usuals: the old guy who feeds the birds, the little old lady who runs a free lemonade stand, and the little girl who draws the ducks in the pond. I was probably a usual to them: the fat, ugly girl who runs everyday.

I felt my eyes start to sting with tears. Afraid of welling up in front of everyone, I sprinted to the gas station and hid in shade near the back of the station. Feeling my cheeks get cold and wet, I let loose and knew I was a wreck for sure. I was fat, ugly, crying, and stupid. Oh, that's a _great_ combination.

I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my shirt and walked into the unsanitary bathroom to wash up. I saw my eyes were big and puffy and red. Bags were forming under my eyes. After shaming myself for my horrible appearance, I left the bathroom to head to my favorite place to go.

--

I crawled through the window to my room that I left unlocked. I climbed up, untangling my foot from the lattice on the side of the house. I fell on my bed and saw Derek sitting on my computer chair, which I somehow missed.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a dark tone, almost sounding sad, confused, anxious, nervous, and mad.

"Why do you care?" I retorted with a pissed look on my face. I looked at him with my stone cold eyes. My eyes were lighter in the past few days; they looked like ice.

"I don't know. Are you selling drugs?" he asked me suddenly, a serious tone and look on his face.

"WHAT?" I asked, completely blown away.

"I'm serious. You're like so withdrawn from the fam, you sleep _way_ too much, you have bad bags, you're eyes are red, you seem ticked for no reason, and you are sneaking out. Are you selling drugs?"

"No!"

"Are you sure, Casey?" Derek replied with a softer look on his face, almost a concerned look.

I answered his concern with anger, "Get out! NOW!"

Derek resignedly stood and walked out, giving me a meaningful look before closing the door behind him, as though to guilt me into saying.

--

"Derek! Get down here," George called for Derek at an ungodly hour, ten in the morning.

"Yeah, dad?" I heard from my room.

"You ruined the bottom of the lattice! What do you have to say for yourself?" I crawled out of bed, using the little strength I had. I made it downstairs in record time, pretending to miss the morning cartoons.

I saw George talking to Derek in the dining room, George's back to me, Derek facing me. Derek was visibly struggling to come with an excuse for the both of us.

He managed to come up with a weak, yet believable, response. "Sorry, dad. Me and the guys were playing driveway hockey the other day. Sam hit it with the stick and knocked Jordan into it." Derek's face was his typical lying face.

"Oh, okay, just next time try to be more careful," George finished, grabbing his briefcase, heading out the door to work with Nora following close after to go to her local job at the office.

Derek walked slowly over to the couch where I was watching the conversation from. He sat down at one end of the couch, opposite my end. He looked straight in front of him, staring at nothing. I had the remote in my hand with a loose grip, but not making any effort to turn on the TV.

"Thanks," I said quietly after a minute or so of silence.

He nodded slowly, "Don't mention it." With that, he stood and walked outside to play soccer with Lizzie and Edwin.

"Hey, D," I said before he left. "Do you think I could play with you guys?" I don't know what possessed me to ask as though it wasn't my family, but over the last few days I felt like a stranger to myself.

He smiled slightly, not smirked, smiled. And he nodded.

--

That night, completely exhausted, I went upstairs an hour or so before dinner. It worked out perfectly because I wouldn't be suspected that I was skipping meals and I really was tired. I changed into my pajamas, turned off the light, and curled into my warm bed with numerous blankets on top of the sheets.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, the door clicked and opened, revealing the dark silhouette of Derek.

"Case?" I gave no response and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to be questioned or forced to eat dinner.

After no response, he tried again. "Casey?" He shook my shoulder, waking me up more. For that I was ticked. I brushed him off and mumbled, "Mmm."

"Dinner's ready. Are you coming down?" I rolled over and proceeded to try to sleep. He walked over to the opposite side of the bed, kneeling down to eye level with me. He tapped my cheek and asked me to open my eyes. I made a feeble attempt to seem fine, but I was overruled. I didn't open my eyes and felt my face contort with weakness.

Derek walked purposefully towards my door and shouted down the steps, "Nora, I'm not feeling well. I'm just gonna pass on dinner tonight. I might grab something to eat later." He walked back into the room and took a cautious seat in the armchair beside my bed as though I would yell at him for staying. I could feel his gaze on me as I fell asleep until he fell asleep as well.

A/n: Edited and revised.


	5. Signs Part III

A/n: Derek's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek.

Chapter Five: Signs (Part Three of Three)

Casey would not respond to anything. Either she hates me that much, or she can hardly move. I waited in her room for hours, finally falling asleep too. When I did wake up, I noticed that she was still fast asleep, big surprise there.

I didn't know what I should do. Should I wake her up? Should I let her sleep? I decided to let her sleep, since she seemed like she really needed it. Walking downstairs, I saw Edwin in my recliner. "Edwin!" I said in my menacing voice to let him know I had arrived.

"I was sitting in your chair!" he yelled, springing from the chair and dropping the remote on the armrest.

I steadily flipped through the channels, not finding anything. I walked into the kitchen to make some food instead. The fridge hardly had anything to eat; Nora must have forgotten to get groceries again. Grabbing a box of cereal and eating it dry, I saw Casey run down the stairs purposefully head to the door.

Curious, I opened my mouth, "Hey! Case, want some cereal?"

"Nah, I'm not feeling so well." She proceeded to head out the door.

"Oh, well, do you want some pancakes? Nora made some before she and Dad took Marti and Lizzie to the mall."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just gonna head to the park." I raised an eyebrow that she couldn't even see; Casey loved Nora's pancakes. She never turned them down. But before I could stop her, she was already out the door and running down the street.

--

"What are you doing?!" Casey shrieked. She climbed through her window hours later. I was sprawled out on her bed, flipping through a magazine and listening to her pop music on the stereo, blasting quite loud.

"Oh, you're back," I said as though she used the door.

"Get out, Derek," she resignedly said, uneasiness in her voice.

"Now, wait a minute. What are doing sneaking out everyday? Do you really go to the park? Or do you go off with some older man or something?"

"DEREK!"

"Just answer me." I put both hands up in surrender, wanting an answer.

"I really do go to the park! Alright, now go," she yelled as she shoved me out her door, slammed it in my face, and clicked the lock.

--

Waking up around noon the next day, I headed across the hall to Casey's room.

"Yo, Casey!" I tossed a pillow at her from the floor.

"What?" Her voice was mumbled and confused. I mean, how often do you wake up with someone tossing a pillow at your head? Well, I guess if you live with me, then quite often…

"It's lunchtime." At those words, she immediately looked paler, awake.

"I think I'll pass. I told Emily I was going to catch a movie with her. We'll get something there," she said, changing into a hoodie and shorts, apparently forgetting I was in the room.

She set her gaze nervously at the window and headed towards it. "Wait, why are you climbing out the window if you're going out with Emily?"

"Because I forgot to ask Mom," she said smoothly as though it was true. But I knew it wasn't. Whether or not Casey would admit it, she was a seasoned pro at lying.

--

I looked at my blank computer screen and waited for something to fall from the sky. In hopes of making plans, I signed on Instant Messenger. No one was on except a few dorks on the hockey team that I didn't associate myself with. Emily wasn't on, which was weird, different… Even she went somewhere, she put an away message.

Emily…was in Hawaii with Dimmie and her parents…

Casey lied.

--

Taking a nap after dinner, a stupid, loud crash woke me up. Damn.

Running into Casey's room, I saw her hanging on the lattice and struggling to climb up as it started to break.

I stood back in her doorway, hiding myself from view as she climbed through the window and shut the curtains.

She began to stare at herself in the mirror. From my spot near the doorway, I saw her pull up her shirt to stare at her stomach

Not feeling good?

--

_Eating disorders can be related mostly to female, teenage, white, athletic, perfectionists. The disorder is usually attributed to the paling of skin, thinning hair without shine, fatigue, separation from friends and family, being cold often, and being absent from meals with excuses. _

I looked down at the paper I had written for health class a few years ago. Casey had all the symptoms. She looked pale, her hair was looking particularly drab, she slept all hours of the day, and she didn't talk with Lizzie or Marti or play games every Friday with the family. Casey was cold and making horrible excuses to get out of eating.

--

Two days later, I awoke to Casey crawling out of bed before me, for a change. I walked across the hall carefully on tiptoe. Through the keyhole, I could see her stare at herself in the mirror again. Either she was really egotistical or she wanted to change something.

I'd had it. Turning the doorknob silently, I walked over to her frail frame. I grabbed her wrist and held up her shirt. On most girls, you can see the hip bone, but it doesn't jut outward horribly. Casey's did. He stomach seemed concave, like it was sinking in. Her wrist was skinnier than most children's. The carpals stuck out more than they should.

"Case?" She looked down at my soft words.

All the signs were there.

A/n: Revised and Edited.


	6. Don't You Two Ever Stop?

A/n: I know that during Signs part two and three that I used Casey's POV and Derek's POV, but that was only for those chapters. Now it's third person omniscient. Italics are Casey's thoughts.

Disclaimer: I do not own LWD.

Chapter Six: Don't You Two Ever Stop?

"Case, the phone's for you," Lizzie said to her sister, opening the door to her sister's room.

"Who is it?" Casey asked blandly.

"Some guy named Max," Lizzie handed her the phone and exited her room.

"Hello?"

"Hey, this is Max," he offered, hoping she could remember him.

"Oh, hey, what's up?" she asked him cheerfully as she sat up with a smile on her face, closing her book.

"Nothing, really, it's just I was wondering, if you wanted to, if you would consider going to Klink's party with me tomorrow night. Would you?" Max recovered after some nervousness.

"Oh, sure, that'd be great," Casey said happily.

"Alright, pick you up at 8?"

"Yeah, sure," Casey said before hanging up and prancing down the hall to Lizzie's room. "Guess what?"

"What?" Lizzie asked her older sister.

"I'm going to Klink's party tomorrow!" Casey shrieked and danced around Lizzie's room. Lizzie sat back and chuckled as she watched her sister smile joyously.

"Um, no," Derek interrupted, leaning in Lizzie's doorway. "I've got a date tomorrow, and you can't go. I don't want to run into you, seeing as I have to make an appearance at Klink's," Derek answered smugly, staring daggers at Casey. _What's his deal? Wasn't he the one all concerned yesterday?_

"What? I'm going and you can't stop me."

"Wanna bet? Just try and get in my way."

"Just try and stop me."

"Fine, we'll see what happens tomorrow," Derek challenged.

"Maybe we will."

"Fine," Derek answered stubbornly, like a child, crossing his arms.

"Fine."

"Don't you two ever get sick of the fighting? I sure do, and I bet you anything that everyone else does too!" Lizzie cut in. "When are you guys ever gonna grow up."

"Well, Derek always starts it," Casey did her part in normally blaming Derek for everything.

"See? You could just walk away or ignore him," Lizzie threw her hands up in exclamation. "You know what? I'm sick of it, and I give up!"

"Whatever," was Derek's take on Lizzie's mini-lecture as he walked away.

--

Casey sat in her room, lying on her bed thinking about everything. _  
_

_Does Derek know? He has to, especially after he saw my stomach, my fat stomach. Maybe he thinks I'm doing the right thing, maybe he agrees with me, maybe he thinks I'm fat, too. How did he change? He was so different a few days ago. What happened? _

Casey was drowning herself in fear that he knew, in fear that he was going to tell. She drowned her hate for herself in all these 'maybes', and it wasn't helping her.

--

"Case, dinner!" Derek called from the steps, waiting for her to show up at the top of stairs. He awaited her usual decline and excuse.

Casey opened her door and shouted down at him, "Emily and I are going out soon, and we're gonna get a bite to eat."

Derek walked up the stairs to her room and faced her skeptically, a hint in his eye warning her that he knew she was lying. She wasn't going to eat anything. "Okay, fine," with that he walked back down the stairs, looking over his shoulder, shaking his head in disgust.

"Derek, what's for dinner?" Casey said, walking up to him, stopping him in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

"It's some chicken casserole, why?" He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, a harsh tone in his voice.

"I don't know. I just thought I'd eat a little before I went out with Emily."

"Oh, whatever," Derek shrugged and walked away.

--

A/n: Edited and revised, but still a filler chapter.


	7. Party Up

A/n: Has some sexual references to depict the parties of teenagers.

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek.

Chapter Seven: Party Up

"Don't know what to wear…what to wear, what to wear," Casey whispered to herself, passing through all her clothes, repeating the cycle of her closet times over.

"Talking to yourself? You know, I think they have a treatment for that…" Derek. There he was, smirking, leaning against her doorway with his arms crossed and his feet crossed in his cocky way of standing there nonchalantly while making you feel like you're about to slide out of your skin.

"Oh yeah, for real? I think they also have a treatment for people who have demons in their soul, too. Oh, right, exorcism, but George isn't that cruel."

"Ha, ha, what are you doing anyway?" Derek asked coldly, "planning what other self-destruction method you're gonna try next?"

--

"Mom, that's my ride. I'll be home by midnight," Casey said, walking out the door in a mini skirt and a v-neck sweater with a tank top underneath, each article of clothing barely hanging on.

Max met her at the door, smiled to Nora and George and escorted Casey to his car. The ride to the party took minutes, but the silence was comfortable. Asking about music and her favorite sports, Max eventually quieted down and listened to music, his hand by his side and sometimes inching nervously towards Casey's.

The party was dangerously hot and people were too close. The living room was emptied out, and a stereo system was in one corner blasting music like tomorrow would never come. The bodies were straining to touch each other, feeling the music pumping through their veins.

"God, it's like sex on hardwood," Casey commented. Max smiled and laughed, grabbing her hand and taking her to the kitchen.

"You want something to drink?" Max asked.

"No, I'm fine," Casey couldn't keep her mind off the calories. "Let's go dance," taking his hand, she dragged him to the living room where dancing was rhythmic and flirtatious, not what she was used to. She liked order, form, perfection, not loose, carefree, original.

This wasn't her idea of fun, but anything was fun now.

There wasn't a thing wrong with the party. It wasn't the other girls, the other guys, the sexual freeness, or even the dancing that normally made her uncomfortable; it was herself. She wasn't made for this. But if only for tonight, she would follow the others in their free form of expression; she would follow suit, if only for tonight.

"You're so tense," Max said from behind her, putting his hands on her hips, dancing with her. "You gotta ease up, just feel it," the whispers shivered her spine and made her feel so much more uninhibited.

Losing all senses of imperfection in the moment, she led him into the kitchen. "I'm thirsty," she explained.

"Here, this will help," Max said, pouring the contents of a can into a classic red cup, the kind associated with these parties. Seeing Derek at the party for the first time, she sneered over at him on the other side of the kitchen, sitting on a bar stool with his latest tease, his hand resting on her knee.

Derek looked at her with cold eyes, connecting for moments, begging her not to do it, but daring her to.

"No thanks, I think I'll just have some water," Casey said reluctantly, breaking eye contact with Derek, smirking softly in triumph.

"Come on, Case," he persisted, "It'll help you relax." Maybe it would help, yeah. Doubtful.

"Alright, thanks, Max." Derek looked away, glancing around the room, upset.

--

After knocking back a few more glasses, Casey was gone. Casey was replaced; all inhibitions were gone. She wasn't too fat; not too ugly; she was good enough, now. If only barely.

The dance floor continued on with its careless movements, that of many wasted teens and half-sober fools. Casey pulled him closer as they both danced to the millionth song that night. She whispered in his ear, "I'll be right back; you stay right here." Her words were slurred, her movements messy.

Her way to the kitchen was worse than before. Long past drunk, she stumbled in, bumping people just as wasted as herself. Ramming into a foreign body, she stumbled backwards, falling, but being caught by the same person she hit…Derek.

"Where are you going, Case?" Derek's entirely sober voice rang out.

"Kitchen," Casey worked out.

"Case, I think you've had enough to drink," his concern suddenly coming on.

"Says you." She roughly pushed past him, drowning out all thoughts of imperfection. This night would be made perfect, if it was the last thing she did.

The kitchen held the secret to her happiness. She stumbled, holding onto the counter for balance. This was too much; she knew it, Max knew it, Derek knew it.

She grabbed a cup and poured the lethal weapon into the cup. Casey slumped against the wall, red cup in hand. Could this be the answer to her problems? This was desperation at its peak.

Sliding to the floor, Casey downed the drink, feeling the alcohol burn her throat that had felt nothing pass it since the whole 'adventure' had started. This was over; time to find Max again.

Casey's way back to the living room was harder than her way to the kitchen. Her head started spinning and her feet felt like they weren't quite on the ground. And she knew why.

Max was dancing with some other girl. He was whispering in her ear the way in had in Casey's. Casey ran upstairs to the bathroom, stumbling over every stair and pushing to the front of the line. Despite the slurred protests of many others, Casey closed and locked the door in their faces.

She met the toilet seconds before the alcohol came back up, burning her throat more and more every second. Feeling relieved after it was over, she wiped her mouth, and she boldly gagged herself, again.

The way back down the stairs was just as challenging as up, if not more. Finally landing on the ground at the same elevation, she was dizzy and felt the room spinning. She raised her hand to her head and fell right to the ground at Derek's feet.

A/N: Revised and edited.


	8. You'll Feel Better in a Week

A/n: New chapter. It took forever. I have no excuse other than what I have written in my profile as my excuse. Basically the worst emotional and creative low I've ever had. It's just that a lot has happened in the past few months that have been really difficult to work through. But I'd like to thank Kevin for pulling me out of my low, whether or not he knows it. **I edited the previous seven chapters…so you might want to read those first. Not much changed just cleaned it up. Some different conversations and I changed some characters, like changed that party guy to Max to fit the third season better. If you skim briefly that'll help. **Italics are Casey's thoughts. Good bit of language in this chapter. But nothing major. And some Max bashing. Derek might be a little OOC, but hey, if your step-sib got smashed, what would you do?

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek.

Chapter Eight: You'll Feel Better in a Week

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Casey mumbled into a dark brown pillow case that was much different from the one in her room. It smelled different, like…guy shampoo or Irish Spring soap.

Like Derek. _Derek, oh fritter._ Rolling over, she saw that she was in a different bed…a full bed, not her twin size bed. With brown sheets, not her blue, green, and white striped ones. She tried to sit up, but rather got stuck in the tangled bed sheets, and swore loudly. A headache like no other hit her…hard.

"About damn time. It's three in the afternoon," Derek's voice softly echoed loudly in her head.

"Oh, stop shouting…," she feebly attempted.

"Here, lay down," Derek said even softer, hardly whispering as he helped her lay back, helping her narrowly miss slamming her head off his headboard. Casey's eyes were squeezed shut, her face contorted in pain, and her eyeliner smeared around her soft blue eyes.

"Casey, stay awake," Derek whispered, tapping her temple slightly, getting her to open her eyes. "You gotta stay awake now."

"Oh, God, no. I wanna sleep," she slurred slightly.

"Listen, Casey, stay with me." Derek carried her fireman-style to the bathroom across the hall. Letting her sink back against the wall, he wet a washcloth. "Here, sit up," he said, slightly frustrated, trying to get her dead weight to stay sitting. "Put this on your head; it'll help."

She put it on her head, but slid over to the side, lying on the cool tile floor. "No, no, no, sit up, wake up, Casey," Derek said.

"What happened?" Casey asked weakly sitting up and holding her head.

"Well, uhm, how about I tell you a little later when you're feeling better," Derek avoided the question, hoping she hadn't noticed the small bruise on his jaw.

"Nu-huh, now," Casey insisted, moving quickly as she could towards the toilet, and puking a few times with Derek by her side, stroking her hair.

"Having fun?" he said, slightly amused. He'd been there before, which was why he didn't have anything to drink last night. Hangovers weren't fun, not fun at all.

"Heh, no." Casey stood quickly, testing herself to walk. Bad idea. She fell backwards onto Derek who carried her back to his room.

"Wait, so what happened," Casey asked hoarsely again, with half-lidded eyes. She was tired and in pain.

"Yeah, about that." Derek set her back down on the bed, where she curled up with his sheets weakly.

Derek continued to avoid the question and dug through a laundry basket in the back of his room, looking for a blanket.

"Derek…," Casey said as firmly as she could in her state. Derek leaned over Casey and put the blanket over her.

"Casey," he said in the same tone but being playful, his arms on either side of her.

"Oh, God, stop moving. Stay still," she said, reaching for one of the two Dereks that were spinning in front of her.

"I'm not moving." A slight smile crossed his lips as he grabbed her hand that was grabbing at thin air.

"Oh," she said, turning on her side and trying for more sleep. Derek moved to sit in front of his laptop. "Wait, tell me what happened."

Derek sighed, figuring he couldn't avoid telling her the truth now. "Fine," Sigh number two, "what was the last thing you remember?"

"Uhm, I was walking down the stairs and that was it," she squinted her eyes, looking at Derek's window with its curtains pulled aside.

Derek fixed them, shutting them tight; he sat down backwards on the computer chair. He exhaled slowly, taking his time with how he was going to word all this.

"Okay, so I saw you. You kinda fell on me," he started off lamely.

"Oh, sorry about that," Casey apologized slowly. "I bet that was interesting. Me passing out at Klink's party."

"Yeah, well, then I carried you outside. I thought, ya know, fresh air might do you some good. Even though you were unconscious. And I got you to wake up, and I asked you what day it was and where you were…and you got those right. So I figured you didn't have a concussion, but I don't really know. That's why you gotta stay awake. I let you sleep last night, though, which I probably shouldn't have done."

Casey nodded slowly, trying desperately to remember it, but coming up short.

"And then I went back inside and that girl I was with that I had to leave early and got Sam to give her a ride home later. And then I was leaving, helping you back in my car when Max came outside and…," Derek stopped.

"…and what?" Casey asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Well, he kinda slugged me. See the beautiful bruise," Derek lifted his chin to reveal the blue-purple mark on his jaw.

_Headache, oh, boy. Pain, need sleep._ "Casey, wake up, you know you gotta stay awake."

"Oh, so he punched you and then what?" she asked, still rubbing her head, trying with all she had to stay awake and focus on what Derek was saying.

"I kinda punched him back…and knocked him out…," Derek trailed off looking down at his sock clad feet and then focusing on the stitching of the edge of his boxers.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Casey shouted, sitting upright with amazing speed. _ Oh, shit! That hurt. _"Oh, God. That hurt," she said, lying back down. "You knocked Max out?!"

"Yeah, well, he kept running his mouth after he slugged me. He was trying to get you out of the car and he was yelling at me for stealing his date," Derek said, slightly amused.

"Oh, and what happened after you knocked him out?"

"Well, everyone was outside, following the chaos, so that other girl he was dancing with when you went upstairs dumped her cup on him…and then I don't know, cause I was driving you home."

"So…Max got mad that you were taking me home even though he dancing with another girl? And then you knock him out, and drive away…and that other girl takes care of him?" Casey asked with slight disgust.

"Pretty much, and then the whole ride home you kept yelling at me for punching Max…I don't know why you cared though." Derek looked up at Casey as though to tell her that Max wasn't worth her time. "And I finally got you to shut up when we got home."

"Wait, what about Mom and George…and Edwin and Lizzie and Marti?"

"Yeah, well, you got lucky. Nora and Dad were already asleep so I left a note saying that you stayed at Sandra's house last night. Nora and Dad are at work now, and Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti went to the babysitter's again."

"Oh…so how'd you get me up here without Edwin and Lizzie asking questions?" Casey covered her eyes with her hands and breathed slowly, obviously trying to fight the nausea coming on. Derek noticed this at once and moved his garbage can towards her just as she turned to puke in it. "Thanks," she mumbled, wiping he mouth along her sleeve.

"Don't mention it. About that…well, I kinda paid 'em off not to tell anyone and to help get you in her without waking up Nora and Dad."

"You did what? So Lizzie and Edwin know that I got smashed last night?" Casey had trouble putting together sentences now, her mind focusing only on the pain from her head.

"Yeah, but they got enough money to keep their mouths' shut."

Casey rolled over, her back to Derek and tried for some sleep. "Hey, wait a minute, I'm not done." Derek reached for her and turned her back over to face him.

"What?" she asked slowly, sleep ridden in her voice.

"Well, I mean, why did you drink so much?"

Casey shook her head, "I don't know. I thought it would make the night more fun. I needed to get my mind off some stuff…I seemed like a good idea at the time."

"What kinda stuff…?" Derek questioned.

"I don't know, just stuff."

"Oh, okay, so how are you feeling?" Derek asked, taking the clear hint that Casey wasn't going to admit that she wasn't eating.

"Oh, brilliant," she muttered sarcastically. "No, for real, I feel like I just got ran over by an eighteen wheeler." She rolled on her side only to lean over the garbage can once more. "Ew, this is so disgusting."

Derek laughed slightly. How he knew that a hangover sucked like nothing other. A hangover was worse than breaking a date. A hangover was worse than chores on a Saturday. A hangover was worse than losing a hockey championship game. No lie.

"Yeah, that feeling…well, drink lots of water and eat some food, and you'll feel better in about a week," Derek suggested from experience. Casey attempted a weak smile.

"Here, drink this," Derek said, grabbing a bottle of water from his desk. "I'll be right back."

Casey lied in his bed, taking everything in. She had gotten smashed, Derek got in a fight with Max, Max practically cheated on her, Lizzie and Edwin knew she was drunk, and she slept in Derek's bed…

But then, _where did Derek sleep?!_

Derek walked in, carrying a bag of chips and a sandwich, typical. "Uhm, Derek, if I slept here, then where did you sleep?"

"Uh, in my bed…why?" he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"Uhm, just wondering is all," Casey replied, feeling nervous. _Did anything happen? Did he sleep in those boxers? What did I sleep in?_ She looked down at herself for the first time and saw that she was wearing a hockey hoodie and a pair of her shorts.

Derek laughed when he saw her face, the worry and anxiousness. "Nothing happen, _sis._"

"Step," she replied automatically. "Did you change me? Where are my other clothes?"

"Nah, Lizzie helped, and your clothes are over there," Derek pointed a pile on the other side of the bed.

Casey sighed, "Oh," and relaxed in the covers.

"Still feel bad?" Derek asked.

"Yeah," she said with an obvious tone.

"Did you drink some water?" She nodded yes. "Why don't you eat something?"

Casey's eyes got wide and she stared at him in disbelief. "What are you saying?"

Derek looked confused, "I'm saying if you eat something you might feel better." And that was when Casey broke down in tears, curling herself in a ball under the covers, trying to ease _all_ the pain.

A/n: Yeah, so that's it. I thought it might be a good place to stop. I know the Max and Derek fight was possibly cliché, but I'm sorry. It just seemed natural that they would fight, especially when Max was drunk. If you go to http(colon)(slash)(slash)en(dot)wikipedia(dot)org(slash)wiki(slash)Life(underscore)with(underscore)Derek, there's a part at the top that says there will be up to six seasons and the show will be on 'til 2009. But wikipedia isn't always the best with information…so who knows. Sweet…also, it says 'Klink' is spelled with a 'C' but for consistency I'll just keep it with a 'K' in this story…if he's mentioned again.


End file.
